


Pie Kink

by KnightAniNaberrie



Series: Facebook Destiel Bingo Prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Feel free to use your imagination, M/M, Pie, this is only implied smut I’m sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightAniNaberrie/pseuds/KnightAniNaberrie
Summary: Sam vs St Patrick’s Day





	Pie Kink

**Author's Note:**

> My internet is only letting half the websites I usually use load 

Sam was having trouble pin pointing when exactly the night transformed from something fairly mild to something he really never needed to see in the kitchen (or anywhere, for that matter.)

 

Somehow Dean had gotten it in his head that they just  _had_ to teach newly human Castiel the “real” reason people celebrated St Patrick’s Day, starting with a trip to the nearest mall to buy out a store’s worth of ridiculous green clothing and pie (“You can never have enough pie, Sammy). The hunter had attempted to get out of wearing any of it himself, but after quite epically losing multiple rounds of Rock Paper Scissors and a rather sad look from Cas, caved and compiled his own combination of green splattered articles. Cas nearly tripped over a chair at the sight, and it took Sam a moment to realize that, rather than focusing on the clover printed shorts or lime accented flip flops, the ex-angels gaze was locked on his brother’s eyes. 

 

Huh. Interesting.

 

Once everyone managed to overcome whatever personal obstacles seemed to be keeping them from making it out the Bunker door, they’d piled into the Impala and drove until they came across a bar Dean deemed acceptable. They drank for about half an hour until Sam stepped out to accept a video call from Eileen.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he returned to an empty table. Two minutes after that, he discovered the car was gone. Five minutes and eight unanswered phone calls after  _that_ and Sam had hot wired a car and was headed back to the bunker, firing off a few more useless texts and calls to both Dean and Cas.

 

What he’d found was the Impala haphazardly parked a few feet from the half open front door. Never a good sign. Grabbing a gun from the trunk, he darted through the door, following the sound of a struggle and trail of discarded green things towards the kitchen.

 

The sight that greeted him would haunt him to the end of his days and beyond. His brother. And his best friend. And at least six different pies.  _On the freaking counter._ Whatever articles of clothing hadn’t been lost in the hallway or on the stairs were scattered throughout the room, someone’s underwear hanging off of his blender. If the image wasn’t enough, the noise was.

 

Without missing a beat, Sam spun on his heel and strolled out of the room. But he didn’t stop there, no sir. His strides carried him back up the stairs and out the door (which he closed, he wasn’t a heathen like his housemates apparently were). He found the keys to the Impala still in the ignition, chucked a pair of clover-covered shorts out the window, and shot off a message to Eileen that he would actually be able to meet with her tonight and no, Dean and Cas would not be joining them.

 

~~ earlier ~~

 

“Ten bucks says it’s Eileen.”

 

Cas squinted at Sam’s retreating form, shaking his head. “You are likely correct. No deal.”

 

An eye roll. A swig of a drink. Silence.

 

A group of scantily clad women wandered by, clearly advanced far beyond tipsy. One of them actual sat in Sam’s abandoned chair before being pulled off by her giggling friends, all shooting locks back at Dean.

 

“I can see why you would enjoy this holiday.” The words were laced with an accidental layer of bitterness, of the expression that crossed the other man’s face said anything.

 

“Well, yeah. What’s not to enjoy? It’s socially acceptable, hell, it’s expected that you get trashed and usually laid. . . Cas? Where are you going?” But Cas was already out the door. Having had no particular plan in mind, he wound up just sitting on the sidewalk, watching an ant crawl across his shoe.

 

A moment later, another pair of shoes found their way next to his, and the ant happily transferred over to the new object.

 

“Cas, if I did something that turned out to be really really stupid, would you hate me?”

 

His eyes shot up to green ones. “Of course not. Why?”

 

The words were barely out before Dean’s lips were on his. Some time later, they broke apart to the someone cheering in the distance. The giggly girls from earlier stood just outside the door of the bar, clapping and shouting happily at the pair.

 

“Perhaps we should relocate.”

 

A wink. “Perhaps you’re right.”

 

As they made their way hastily over to the Impala, Dean whispering that there was something he’d  _really_ like to try, Cas figured he could agree with one thing. This was a rather nice holiday.


End file.
